The Ache
by kasskaban
Summary: Struggling with the effects of the tragedies in their lives, Katniss and Peeta find peace in each other to dull the ache that has haunted them for years. Modern AU. Mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

I've always felt the best surrounded by trees. The clean, crisp air biting at warm cheeks, the evidence of your life escaping from parted lips, the slow ache creeping into your body as you spend hours up here, between the pines… this is magic. This is heaven. This is what I live for.

I wipe the sweat that has been collecting above my brows and wipe my hand on my father's old leather jacket. I breathe in the fresh mountain air. My eyes sweep the valley below me, marveling at the different shades of green and follow the black dots of birds darting between the tree tops. _Yes, _I think, eyeing the mountain lines barely visible in the fog. _This is what my heaven would look like._

"Yo! Earth to Katniss!"

A sting on the back of my head follows the voice. I grimace, turning around to see Johanna picking up another pinecone. I draw my bow to her, eyeing her carefully. A smirk plays on her lips as she tosses it back and forth between her hands, amused by my actions.

"Careful, Jo," I drawl, putting down my bow. She cackles and throws the pinecone behind her. "I could've easily told the police it was a mere hunting accident." Johanna laughs even louder.

"Please, you wouldn't do that to me. You need me," she said, bumping her hips against mine as she stands next to me. Johanna whistles at the view. "Sure is pretty." I nod. My favorite place in the world was this spot- the trees opened up at the beginning of a round edge off the middle of the small mountain closest to our small house. You can see miles and miles out into the sea of trees and mountains before you until the fog swallows them up. It is the perfect spot to watch the sun go down between the two tallest mountains in the distance. The stars shine their brightest here. My father used to bring me to this spot after a hike or a hunting trip and we'd snack on the apples he would bring from home. We would wash up in a clearing just barely half a mile back and to the left. I try to visit this place at least a few times a week, schedule permitting. The thought of my father immediately constricts my throat and the threat of tears makes me stop. I swallow hard and shake my head slightly to bring me back into reality. A reality where Johanna stands next to me and not my father.

"Why the pinecone assault?" I ask, finally breaking the silence between us. I shift my bow awkwardly onto my shoulder, turning slightly to face the twenty-seven year old, who was looking at me in a way that hinted she knew what was going on in my head. She quickly smiled and scratched the shaved side of her head.

"I was calling your name for a good five minutes, Kat," Johanna said. "You were pretty out of it," she added, smiling slightly. "I can see why. This place never ceases to amaze me." I nod again.

"Sorry, I guess I was. Hey, did you check the snares a few yards back?" I ask, finally tearing myself away from my holy ground. Johanna nodded and grinned, pulling two rabbits out of the hunting sack and wiped the dried blood from her hands before taking a large canteen of water from her backpack.

"Surprised these little shits took to it. I suck at snares," she said before taking a large swig. Johanna Mason has been my friend since we met at the lumberjack competitions when we were teenagers. She hailed from the state of Arbor, where many girls competed in ax throwing and other lumber sports, especially if they were five and a half feet tall and could throw as far and as hard as she could. Johanna admired my archery, I the way she handled an ax. I never expected the then nineteen year old would ever talk to my awkward, sixteen year old self, but we quickly became friends over our love of competition and the lamb stew they used to serve to the winners. Johanna's brown hair was cut short, just above her ear. Lately she's been taken to shaving the side of her head. "It suits my barbaric side, don't you think?" she said the first time she tried it, her deep brown eyes gleaming with mischief. I can definitely see why Conall, her fiancé and old training coach, dotes on her so much. They were exactly alike.

"See anything you like, Everdeen?" she winks at me, throwing the bag of game over her shoulder. I laugh, shaking my head. "Let's get these back home. It's nearly eight. We have to open up shop in three hours." Making sure all of our things are accounted for, I start my way down the path back to our small house four miles away. Johanna groans behind me.

"Can't that Delly girl open? Isn't that why we hired her, to do the things we don't wanna do?" grumbles Jo, avoiding the tree limbs that threaten to trip her. After graduating from Mountain State two years ago, the university in town, I decided to open a gym/practice facility in a large abandoned warehouse. A space to practice my archery, relieve my stress, and provide a distraction from everything around me was a must, especially after my father's death four years ago. Johanna moved here to Blue Mountain, a large town located between the mountains in the twelfth district of the state of Panem, to help me start it up a year ago and to instruct the kick boxing classes that was one of a few classes provided at Panem Fitness. Johanna was right- we did initially hire Delly to do the things we didn't want to do (mainly paperwork and customer service while we held classes). Delly Cartwright was a simple minded girl, nice, but not that reliable. She had texted this morning saying she was sick and couldn't make it, which had me stuck with receptionist duties all day, along with the bookkeeping duties that usually fall upon me on Sundays.

"Called in sick," I grunted as we got closer to the house. I wasn't too excited to be behind a desk all day, but I would be better at it than Johanna, who would surely scare the customers away. "But that means you get to do classes all day," I add, turning my head to see her scowl and laugh. I knew Johanna secretly loved teaching the kickboxing classes so she could have an excuse to yell at people and kick things all day.

"Whatever, Everdeen. Let's get these inside. I'm starving."

I inherited my father's old hunting cabin when he passed away. It's been in his side of the family for generations. It was the size of a small house, painted a dark brown and was nestled in between the trees. A large porch was home to two rocking chairs that belonged to my parents. Upstairs held the two bedrooms and a bathroom Johanna and I shared, and downstairs had a cozy living room and a small kitchen. It was close to a hiking trail and a few miles out of town. I spent many summers running around with my little sister Prim up and down these stairs and around the land, swimming in the creek that ran not too far from the backyard and catching fireflies. It took me a couple years after my father's death to step back into this house, but I finally got the courage to do so. I couldn't abandon one of the few things my father left me, no matter how painful it was to be here without him.

Johanna and I took our time cleaning the two rabbits we managed to acquire. It wasn't a great haul, but a haul nevertheless. I did not expect much out of this trip, but I needed some fresh air and to my surprise Johanna joined me. After breakfast I ran up to the shower, having called dibs first, to Jo's dismay. I stripped off my dirty hunting clothes, avoiding glancing at the mirror. I waited impatiently for the water to turn from cold to hot, cursing myself for not doing this first. I felt the tiny thin hairs on my arms stand on end at the cold, the goose bumps suddenly appearing all over my body sending a shiver down my spine. I loosen the long black braid that I usually don, letting the waves fall over my face and shoulders. Steam rises from behind the shower curtain and I sigh as the hot water hits my cold skin. Running my hands through my hair, I think of today, hoping it won't be too busy. I hum quietly to myself, lathering my body with the lavender scented soap Prim brought for me the last time she was home. I let the water rinse me off and turn to stand facing the stream of water, allowing it to hit my face.

"Hurry up, Katniss!" Johanna whined, banging on the door. I sigh and turned the water off. It was good while it lasted. I wrap my hair and body with towels and open the door. Johanna stood there with arms crossed, her towels draped over her shoulder. "Finally. I was about to chop my way through the door," she said, winking playfully as she passed me to get into the bathroom. "I hoped you left me some hot water to work with!" I hear her call out, shutting the door behind her.

I change quickly into black, spandex tights and my Panem Fitness t-shirt, haphazardly hopping around my room, pulling one shoe on and struggling to find the other. Dressed, I brush my semi-dry hair, styling it into my usual braid. I let if fall back and finally make myself look into the mirror. I'm not a confident person. I've always thought myself to be a bit plain. My formative, pubescent years weren't so wonderful. I inherited my father's steel grey eyes, black hair, and olive skin, not my mother's blonde hair and blue eyes, like my sister. I hardly ever wear makeup, never really seeing the need to unless it's forced upon me (my mother or sister begging me until I'm annoyed to the breaking point usually does it). I look away and grab a light sweater from the pile of clean clothes off my bed and run down the stairs. I spot Johanna filling a water bottle, her gym bag resting on the counter. Grabbing the day's essentials (apples, keys, phone, my own water bottle that Johanna kindly filled, granola bars, and my files for today); I fill up my own bag and head out the front door.

The late morning air had a chill to it. I pulled my sweater tighter around me as I throw my things in the back seat. I slam the door behind me, nestling into the passenger seat of the large SUV. I see Johanna locking the front door behind her and running to her car. "Fuck it's cold," she mutters, turning on the engine.

"Ready?" she asks, the feeling of the familiar anxiety spill into my gut as I glance out of the window. I drum my fingers against my knee as a distraction. Johanna smiled kindly and handed me her iPod. I nod gratefully, thanking her silently for a much needed distraction. I close my eyes and crank the volume of the music as I feel the car leaving the driveway and my stomach drop to me knees.

"Ready."

Panem Fitness has your basic gym equipment for all your different types of gym goers, divided up in sections in an open floor plan to provide easier transitions from one type of workout to the next. For the strength training types, the barbells and the racks were conveniently located by the free weights along one of the mirrored walls of the rectangular building. Next to them, you have your cardio equipment in the center of the warehouse- bikes, elliptical, treadmills, and row machines all formed into neat lines for your cardio junkies and elderly folk. Along the corner there is a yoga and stretch area, with mats, balls, and foam rolls to stretch out sore muscles after a workout or squeeze in some ab time. Johanna's kickboxing area takes up half of one side of the warehouse with a small ring and six bags for classes. The locker rooms and bathrooms are equipped with showers. Outside is where we housed the archery and ax throwing stations along the steel walls of the building. The Yard, as it was called, was as large as two tennis courts. In the center of The Yard were two large tractor tires for flipping and large, iron kettle bells too big to keep inside. Boxes of different sizes were placed here and there for jumping on.

Opening a gym wasn't always my dream. When I was a child I wanted to go to the Olympics for archery. My parents took me all along the east coasts to compete in countless competitions to get me sponsored. As I got older I decided to put that dream aside and focus more on school. I got accepted into Mountain State University here in town with a full ride on their archery team. At the time I was unsure of what I wanted to study, so I majored in exercise science, a common subject among athletes. I fell in love with all the physical things the body could do. I realized that when I lacked the control of what was going on with my life, I did have control over what I looked like. I was intrigued at the fact that the more or less I did something physically, it impacted my body. It made me feel powerful to be able to have that much control. I received my personal trainer certificate and a bachelor's degree after graduating. With some of the money my father left my family after he passed away, and money I have saved from the competitions I won as an adolescent, I bought the old warehouse and put all my grief into that project, putting in a year of hard work, paperwork, and lots of stress. Johanna was there to aid the whole way through, moving in with me after my father's funeral and putting as much effort into my project as I did. I don't know what I could have done without her help.

The gym was getting busier and busier as the seasons went on. Our clientele was mostly college students, though recently we have been trying to get more locals and older people to get memberships. Although, for only being opened for a year, we have been doing fairly well. Most new business flop around this time, but we've been able to come out on top so far. When we opened, the town welcomed us with open arms. Blue Mountain is very supportive with the local businesses in town. The other gyms didn't seem to mind the competition, at least, not yet. With business booming for Panem Fitness, Johanna and I have discussed hiring more trainers to fit the demands of more classes. If we want to keep afloat, we need more bodies.

I'm not one for placing ads online, but Johanna insisted we do that along with posting fliers on the front door of the warehouse and on bulletin boards in other local businesses in town. It's been two days since we have announced we were hiring, and so far only three people have applied. I sigh, looking down at all the paperwork I will have to sort through tonight. We have had four new members sign up today, and those will take a large chunk of my time, entering all the information into the system and arranging bank-to-business deposits. I rub my face in my hands, trying to wake myself up from a restless night of sleep and an infinite pile of stress that seems to add up on my shoulders. I finally glance up from my work to an attractive man smirking at me, leaning against the top of the counter. I gasp and nervously fumble around my desk, organizing the mess of papers to find my keyboard. How could I have not heard a customer come in?

"Oh! I'm so sorry about that!" I exclaim, cheeks reddening as he chuckles to himself. _Dammit, Katniss. Get your shit together. What is wrong with you today?_ "My name is Katniss, how can I help you?" I ask, finally looking up to the tall, good looking blonde grinning down at me. His blue eyes twinkling as his grin widened. My eyes trailed down from his down to his body, one that was very well kept, judging by the way his shirt hugged his lean frame. I finally force my eyes upward to meet his again. His hair was kept short, though the small curls curled close to his head. His smile was playful, yet kind that made my already red cheeks burn crimson.

"Well, Katniss, I've heard so much about your gym, I thought I'd check it out. So far, I like what I see," he flirts, leaning against the desk. I laugh, knowing full well my cheeks were on fire. I was never a flirt; in fact, I hardly ever attracted enough attention from the opposite sex to even give me a chance to try. This kind of behavior is alien to me. I still see myself as the incredibly skinny, small chested thirteen year old Katniss Everdeen all the boys and girls in Seam Middle School used to tease. I give him my best, proud business woman smile.

"I'm glad you like it. It is, after all, my precious brain child." I break eye contact finally, allowing myself to briefly pull it together. I can feel his eyes follow my movements as I roll my chair over to a file cabinet behind me and pull out a new member registration form and a numbered padlock. I hand him the forms, a clipboard and a pen. "If you could just fill these out, we can get you settled in," I said, regaining back my professionalism. How could I let that get away from me? It is one of the things I value the most. I should not be so frazzled over the attention of a man I've only known for three minutes. I will not let that happen again.

He smiles at me once more and in no time fills out the forms, humming quietly to himself. "$35 a month? What a deal!" he exclaims happily, signing the last of the papers. I smile somewhat smugly. Our low rates are what keeps our customer base solid compared to our competitors. I made sure that was a priority for the business.

"We like to keep our customers happy," I stand, latching a portable phone to my hip. He hands me the clipboard and grabs his gym bag. After making sure things were settled and files put away for safe keeping, I make my way from behind the counter and motion for him to follow me to begin the tour.

"I sure hope so," I hear him say behind me as I begin to lead him down the hall to the warehouse. I can feel the back of my neck heat up out of embarrassment. I'm definitely not used to this kind of attention, and he knows it.

"Just follow me and I can give you a quick tour and assign you a locker number, Mr…" I glance down at the clipboard as we walk down the wide hallway lined with motivational photos and quotes leading us to the workout area. "Mr. Mellark," I add. "You wouldn't happen to be from the Mellark Family Bakery, would you?" He laughs.

"Please, call me Reese. Mr. Mellark was my dad's name. Yes, that's our bakery, although my brother Peeta is the brains of the operation now." Reese grins down at me as he opens the door to the entrance of the warehouse. _Peeta… I don't think I've ever met any one of the Mellark children... _I shake my head a little and focus at the task at hand.

"So this," I say proudly, opening my arms at the busy floor to the sweating patrons lifting and running to the upbeat music playing through the speakers, "Is Panem Fitness. It's actually pretty busy for a Sunday, but I promise you, you won't be interrupted by anyone during your workout; there are plenty of machines for everyone." We pass focused men and women in the middle of their workouts, paying no mind to Reese and I. They were too entirely focused on themselves, and that made my heart swell with pride. I focus back to the tour as we near the free weight section were two old women were deciding whether to choose the two and a half pound or five pound dumbbells.

"You can sign up for any classes that you like. Right now it is just Johanna and I leading the classes. We have archery Mondays and Fridays, strength and conditioning Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays led by me, twice a day. Johanna, the loud one over there," I motion my head towards the loud yelling and grunting in the corner. Johanna stood by one poor individual with her hands on her hips, barking instructions to hit harder and faster. She is definitely working the poor souls to extinction. "Johanna leads her ax throwing and underhand chopping classes Tuesdays and Thursdays and kick boxing Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends." I lead Reese Mellark outside to show him The Yard. A few brave souls have risked the chilly temperatures to complete their workouts. I smile at them encouragingly as we circle the lot.

"You are welcome to come out here at any time to use the heavier kettle bells and tires. We have rope back there as well as boxes. Questions?" I ask, returning to the backdoor and using my hand to shade my eyes from the sun. Although bright and shining, it had no effect to the quickly dropping temperatures.

"Actually, I think I'm good!" Reese says, clapping his hands approvingly. "You guys have a lot more stuff than the gym at the university." I raise my eyebrows. A fellow Mountaineer. How interesting.

"You went to MSU? So did I! Two years ago," I say, closing the door behind us. His grin widened.

"Yeah! Majored in Dietics. Since my family passed down the bakery to Peeta and I, I've tried to introduce healthier options to our menu. I usually go down there to work out since I have some old buddies still working there."

"Did you go to high school here too?" I ask, making our way towards the entrance of the men's locker room, concluding the tour. I've never seen any of the Mellark children at school growing up, only a handful of time when my parents pointed them out across the square in town or at the grocery store.

"No, we were homeschooled by our mom," Reese says, his eyes darkening at the last word. _Hmm, how strange. _ I glance down at my clipboard, feeling a little awkward for bringing up something I wasn't supposed to. I flash him another business woman smile. I need to get back to the lobby before someone else comes in to find it empty.

"Well, Reese, we're happy you chose us for your fitness needs. Here's your locker number," I hand him a small, numbered padlock. "Please let me know if you need anything else. I'll be in the lobby, entering your information into the system." Patting the clipboard, I turn and leave him to change.

"Thanks again, Katniss!" Reese calls out. I raise my hand in acknowledgment as I make my way down to finish my work. I pass Johanna, who raises her eyebrows questioningly, as a middle aged man punches the bag Johanna is holding feebly. I roll my eyes at her and enter the lobby.

The Mellarks… I have seen the bakery downtown plenty of times. I now know why I have never seen any of the Mellark children at school. My father had mentioned before that they were very religious and kept to themselves mostly. That explains the homeschooling. The Mellark Family Bakery is the best in the district. My mother used to bring home their cheese buns- they were my favorite. I know they have had loss in their family. Their eldest brother passed away a hero in the war a few years ago. I remember seeing it in the news and in the papers for a couple of weeks. Their father also passed away a year later. That was also a huge blow to the town. Everyone loved the old baker. A feeling of pity seeped into my gut. I know what it's like to lose a father, but I could never imagine losing a sibling. I cherish Prim most of all. The thought of losing my baby sister hurts.

I pass the next two hours entering all the new clientele's information into the system, taking my time as there was nothing much to do until closing time. I munch on a granola bar in the meantime, setting an even, steady rhythm to my work. The mundane, repetitive work is soothing in a way. The door to the warehouse opens and I spot Reese. He jogs to my desk, sweaty from his workout. His bag hangs from his shoulder as he leans into the counter slightly out of breath.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asks suddenly, his eyes boring into mine. My mouth opens in shock. _Is this guy seriously asking me out?_ I haven't been on a date in so long, and that was a blind date set up by Conall with one of his friends. I did it as a favor, and the man was a drag. I don't usually have the time for it now that business is booming, or the willingness or confidence to seek out a date like so many girls in town, and my age, do.

"I, uh, besides work nothing too exciting," I stammer out, not knowing how to handle this situation, a situation that I am _definitely_ not used to being in. Reese's smile widens at my answer, his blonde hair glistening in the florescent lights. I fidget with my hands nervously.

"Great! That's great," he says, tapping the counter top with his knuckles. "Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday?" I raise an eyebrow, studying the six foot three man in front of me. _What does he see in me?_ Curious, I look at him from underneath my eyelashes. I've seen countless girls do this before when talking to boys.

"Reese Mellark, you just met me and you're asking me out on a date? You work fast, don't you?" I tease, shuffling paperwork on my desk to occupy my shaking hands. _I must look like an idiot. What the hell am I doing.._.? He smirks and nods.

"I told you, I like what I see."

I feel the familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss my cheeks. In my experience, not a lot of people like what they see. I mentally wave those thoughts aside and take a deep breath and finally look him in the eye.

"Sure."

"Sure?" He seems surprised. Was he expecting a no? _Maybe I should have said no…_

"Sure." _Why the hell not? _How long has Johanna been nagging at me to get out of the house? Reese's smile breaks out into a blinding grin and laughs. "Fantastic! How about I call you in a couple of days to work out the details?" Reese says, taking one of my cards from the counter and waving it in my face. I laugh at his excitement and out of relief. Flirting is not my forte and I'm glad it's over.

"Yeah, that sounds great," I say, smiling softly. _I can't believe this is happening. Katniss what are you doing? _This day is so fucking weird.

"I will call you," Reese says with a smile, his back leaning against the front door. I nod and shoo him out the door from my desk. He laughs and with a wave, vanishes. I sit back into my chair, still completely shocked over what happened in the last two minutes. Next weekend should prove to be interesting. He's not awful looking. Definitely far from awful. I could have done worse.

Work rushes by quickly and before you know it, seven rolls around and the last gym goer has left the building. Johanna and I spend the next hour cleaning and reorganizing the facility for tomorrow morning. We finish in no time and lock the front doors, hurrying to the car before it could possibly get any colder. Johanna starts the car and I sit in the passenger seat shivering, regretting not bringing a thicker jacket. This spring weather was not feeling like spring at all.

"So," Johanna starts, fiddling with the heater knobs. "Who was that guy?" She looks over at me and smirks. I roll my eyes at her and wave her off. "Oh come on, Kat. Tell me! Did he ask you out? He could not stop staring at your ass while you were showing him around." Jo wiggles her eyebrows and laughs when I swat her away.

"Stop that. And yes. He did ask me on a date. This Friday," I finish, looking anywhere but at Johanna's face. Johanna, especially, knows how I am when it comes to the opposite sex: awkward, uncomfortable, and insecure. Her eyes widen, a slow grin inching across her face.

"Katniss Everdeen has a date," she huffs proudly, smacking the steering wheel and lets out a loud whoop.

I laugh nervously and shake my head. Am I seriously that bad?

"Yes. Katniss Everdeen has a date."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello all! Sorry for the long wait, life kinda got distracting and I'm still figuring out this website, but here's chapter two! I guess I forgot to mention in the beginning that every other chapter switches from Katniss to Peeta's POVs (I kind of just uploaded Ch 1 right away out of nerves haha). Peeta's one of my favorite characters so this chapter was fun to write. Thanks to my friends for reading and encouraging me to do this, even if I did shove it in your faces haha. Enough of my ramblings- enjoy! _

_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games trilogy, it is the property of Suzanne Collins and Lionsgate Entertainment.**_

Peeta Mellark

I wake in a cold sweat; the coughs shake my body and scratch at my dry throat. The sheets stick to my exposed flesh. I fumble around the bedside table for a light, for something to eliminate the darkness that seems to enclose me with every second that passes by. Finally finding the switch, the light is blinding. My eyes struggle to adjust as I squint to find my alarm clock. It's only two thirty in the morning. That can't be right. That would mean I've only been asleep for an hour. I lay back into bed and run my hands through my drenched hair and try to regain a steady pace in my heart beat. I must have had a panic attack while I was asleep. That would have been the first one in years. The empty feeling in my stomach ached of a nonexistent hunger, my chest felt concave and my head throbbed under my hands. The worst pain of all was in my left leg. Or at least, what was left of it.

The panic attacks began after the accident when I was nine. At first, I didn't know what was happening. I would feel the tightening of my chest, and then my body would shake viciously. Suddenly, I wouldn't be able to breathe and at any second I thought I would die. My brothers would have to take me somewhere quiet until the episodes passed. The only connection to the attacks was my mother. _Should I even call her that?_ I think bitterly. What kind of _mother_ scars her children? What kind of _mother_ abuses her children physically, mentally, and emotionally? My older brothers, Mason and Reese, got the better end of the stick- they did not suffer as badly as I did. I was the rotten apple in Mara's eye, her favorite to throw around and slap. My father, Bannock, was too busy with the bakery to keep an eye out for his boys, only protecting us when he could. Mara would even slap my father occasionally. I never understood why my mother hated me so much, or why she called me a mistake, useless and undeserving. Was it because after two boys, I wasn't a daughter? Maybe I_ was_ a mistake, maybe I _was_ never wanted. Nevertheless, the lack of limb below my knee was the only proof I had that I was the least favorite of her children.

Thinking of Mara always left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I glance back at the clock. Three in the morning. The throbbing pain of my left leg pulls me back into focus. I pull myself into a sitting position, pausing only to remove my cold, wet t-shirt. A cold breath of wind from the open window strokes my exposed flesh causing me to shudder violently. Putting on my prosthesis and crossing the room to close the window was too much of a daunting task. I feel too drained, too emotionally and physically exhausted. The mere thought of it causes the air to escape me. The panic attack took too much out of me. I wrench aside the comforter and sheets to examine my leg. I will never grow accustomed to the phantom limb pain, even after sixteen years without part of my leg. The pain was at its worst a couple of years after the amputation. I would lay awake at night, trying to scratch an itch that wasn't there; to wake up a part of me that would never return. It was unbearable. I couldn't run, I could barely walk, I was useless, just as Mara had said to me so many times. It was nothing a child should ever endure.

I rubbed the aching nub below my knee gently, hissing slightly as I accidentally hit a tender nerve along the scar line. I coax the feeling back into my remaining leg, applying gentle pressure in aching spots. Finally the pain subsides and I glance over at the clock once more. An hour has passed since my panic attack. The bakery opens in three. My eyelids suddenly feel as though they weigh eighty pounds and the exhaustion hits me like a freight train. The pillows and sheets greet my back and sleep finally takes over.

"Why don't you come over to the office whenever you're free and we can take a look at your leg, Peeta. I think I know what it could be, but I want to make sure. Are you experiencing any discomfort when you put on the socket?" Dr. Jackson asked over the phone. I tuck my phone closer against my neck as I attempt to balance a large plate of fresh strawberry scones in my hands. The new recipe Reese and I created seemed to be a major hit among customers. This is the third batch of the day and the morning is still young. I smile at the customers munching on their baked goods, seated in wrought iron chairs against the wall enjoying their breakfasts. The Mellark Family Bakery has been in business for about 100 years and has been in the same original building since then on 1213 Seam Street in downtown Blue Mountain. The old brick building gave it a charming, warm feeling as you step into the bakery, and the smell of fresh bread has seeped into the walls and floors. The big, open window front allowed the shop to be filled with sunlight. I wipe my hands on my apron and turn back into the large kitchen in the back of the building. I take a seat on a stool against the counter, giving a rest for my aching limb and eye the timer on the oven. Just twenty more minutes until the banana nut bread will be ready to cool. I turn my attention back to the phone call.

"Um, no, not that I know of, Dr. Jackson. The socket is fine; I may need to replace the liner. It just has been acting up more than usual." I glance down at my leg, the prosthesis hidden underneath my pants. The pain from last night has made appearances all throughout the morning. I wince slightly as a new wave of pain shoots through my leg.

"Very well," she says. I hear her mumble off something to the receptionist. "Can you make it at 3? I have a brief opening between patients." I confirm the time, hoping Rue, my only assistant besides Reese, would be okay with me being gone for a couple hours. Placing the phone on the counter, I rise from the stool and make my way to the pantry, my limp now more noticeable than ever. When I was younger, the limp was awful and embarrassing, and it grew worse the more flustered I became, especially out in public. Now, after wearing better prosthetic limbs and countless physical therapy sessions, the limp went unnoticed to the untrained eye. I gather the ingredients for chocolate cupcakes- requested by a very frazzled mother with a fifteen year old daughter- and place them in a large bowl while I re-tie the apron around my waist.

A loud clang from the backdoor started me out of my thoughts, causing flour to fly everywhere. I cough as the flour makes its way into my nose and mouth.

"Baby brother!" Reese called in a booming voice, carrying sacks of sugar and flour over his shoulders and slamming the back door behind him. My older brother clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder and reached around to grab a blueberry muffin cooling on the rack behind me. I scowl and cross my arms. Reese grins and takes a large bite. I give him a reproachful look. Flour had settled in his short blonde hair, but he didn't seem to mind as he gleefully peeled back the thin foil.

"Oh come on, Peet! Lighten up! It's a beautiful day, and it's only ten in the morning!" he exclaimed, popping the rest of the muffin into his large mouth and smiled. I shrug, turning my back to him and begin measuring out the ingredients. "It's just your typical Friday, Reese. Just another day at the bakery," I call out to him as he places the bags of sugar and flour in the storage room by the back door. His bark of laughter echoes from inside the room. He exits, wiping his large hands on the front of his black Mellark Family Bakery t-shirt.

"Just your typical Friday? Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. See, this is where you're wrong! Tonight's my date with a gorgeous trainer with the fantastic ass," says Reese, leaning his back against the counter where I stand, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I grunt in response and he rolls his eyes.

"Be excited for me, baby brother! I've been eyeing her ever since we saw her at the farmer's market a few weeks ago." He cracks a few eggs into the mixer, finally lending a hand. It's true. All I have heard the past couple of weeks is of the 'super hot trainer' who owned the newest gym in town, and whose name I finally learned to be Katniss Everdeen. But there was no denying it, she is gorgeous. I will never admit to Reese that she has been occupying my thoughts since then. The way her black hair cascaded in waves along her back or how nicely her black jeans hugged her perfectly toned legs, how her lips curled back to bite into a fresh organic apple, or even how the sun made her olive skin glow. Thinking of her always brought a rush of desire, and I cough awkwardly, managing to adjust myself inconspicuously. The fact that my older brother managed to talk to her first annoyed me. After his visit to her gym, she was all he talked about. Then again, I was the one who suggested he do something about it than continue to pester me. I regretted it as soon as he came home and saw the smug look on his face. I shake my head to try to rid the bitter thoughts. It was only fair. I did nothing to seek her out. I pass him the dry ingredients just in time to pull the bread out of the oven.

"Hey, Peet?" Reese asks, his voice an octave higher than usual. He pours the ingredients into the electric mixer, placing it on its slowest setting and turns to me. I place the bread on the cooling rack above the muffins, the wonderful smell of banana and cinnamon filling the kitchen. I raise an eyebrow as I take off the oven mitts.

"Oh no," I say, shaking my head. I carry the now ready to eat muffins out front. Reese scrambles behind me and holds open the door. I smile at Rue, who must have come in while I was busy with Reese.

"Hey, there, Rue," I call out as she makes her way over the counter. She throws me a smile as she clocks in. Reese grins at her and quickly turns his attention back to me.

"Here, let me get that for you, baby brother," he says, snatching the tray of muffins from my hands and begins to place them in the glass display case on the counter. I raise an eyebrow at Rue, who only laughs in disbelief, her dark brown curls bouncing as her tiny frame shook.

"Since when do you ever help around here, Reese?" she says, chuckling as she rearranges a plate of frosted sugar cookies. Reese frowns. "I always help out!" he says, feigning being hurt at her words. Rue and I roll our eyes and I walk back into the kitchen, Reese hot at my heels.

"Hey, Peeta…" He grabs my shoulder and turns me around and my prosthesis pinches the skin of my nub through the liner. I wince and adjust my posture. Annoyed, I bend over and rub some feeling back to my leg. Reese looks at me apologetically.

"Sorry. It was just that I was wondering if you do me a huge favor for my date tonight," he explained, going back to check on the mixer. I place the dirty bowls in the sink and wipe my hands on the kitchen towel I keep hung over my shoulder. I sigh. "What do you want, Reese?"

"Aw, don't come at me like that Peet. I just was hoping you'd cook something nice. You know I don't cook as well as you do and I didn't think to set up any reservations." I silently placed the cupcake trays next to him. _So,_ _that's what he wanted. _I sigh once more. I would much rather cook for her if _I_ was the one trying to woo her. I immediately feel guilty as I see the desperation on my brother's face and the concern in his blue eyes. I scratch the scruff of whiskers on my face, trying to decide if I wanted to waste the better part of my evening cooking for Reese. _I forgot to shave_, I realize.

"Okay. Are you bringing her over?" I ask, helping my brother put the cupcake trays filled with chocolate batter into the oven. I think of the mess that has accumulated around the living room and kitchen from this past week. No way would he have time to clean up, because I sure as hell was offering no more help. He grunts and shuts the oven door and wipes his brows from the heat radiating off the metal. "I, uh, I don't know yet. I thought I'd just bring it over to her place or maybe set up a table here after hours," he says. _If he brings her here I will most likely see her again…_

"Alright," I say, glancing at the clock on the old brick wall. Eleven forty-five. I look over at Reese, who eyes me warily. I shrug. "I'm going to need you and Rue to mind the shop while I go see Dr. Jackson around three o'clock. I shouldn't be too long. I'll get the groceries on my way out and cook here. What time is your date?" Reese's smile of gratitude quickly turns into a frown.

"You okay, Peet? Is your leg acting up again?" he asks, eyebrows pulled together in concern. I nod but shrug it off.

"Just a check up, big brother," I say, smiling warmly. Leave it to Reese to activate 'Big Brother Mode'. He was a baby himself when I was born, only two years old but acting as if he raised me himself. And I guess in a way he had, along with our eldest brother Mason. Mason would take me to the doctor and Reese was there for a majority of my physical therapy sessions after the amputation. He protected me from our mother during her worst fits of rage, which were usually aimed at me. I may not exactly be up to cook for him, especially since I can't seem to get his date out of my mind, but I'll do it for him. He smiles and slaps the counter lightly.

"You're the man, Peet," he exclaims. "Shoot me a text after you get out and let me know how it went." I nod, wiping the counter free of the flour and egg mixture that flew out of the electric mixer. "The date is at seven, so that gives me an hour to shower and pick her up. She said doesn't drive much," he explains, prepping for another batch of cupcakes. That strikes me as odd. _To each their own, I guess._

Reese and I finish baking the commissioned order, leaving the frosting for later after I return from my appointment. I pass the time thinking of different meals for tonight. The thought of Katniss eating and enjoying my cooking stokes a primal fire deep within me. Thinking of her closing her eyes and moaning from satisfaction after taking a bite, licking her lips in anticipation for more… I want to make her moan for completely different reasons. Thinking of my brother's date in sexual situations made for an awkward, semi-erect afternoon as I rushed around the bakery, baking breads and pies, helping Rue with customers and finally, it was time to go. I reassure Reese that I will let him know what the doctor said and make my way to my car.

The drive to Dr. Jackson's office was short. I walk into the modern building and greet the receptionist with a warm smile. The young woman blushed and buzzed for the orthopedic surgeon that I had arrived. "She'll be with you in just a second, Mr. Mellark." I sit in an uncomfortable, over stuffed armchair and pass the time glancing at the magazine covers. Five minutes later, a nurse appears and leads me to the back of the building and into an examining room. He hands me a robe to change in and exits the room. I strip out of my pants quickly, leaving my shirt on but yet I was still shivering in the cold. I rub my hands along my arms to generate heat while I wait for the middle aged woman whom I've known for so long. After a short while Dr. Jackson enters the room and greets me with a smile.

"Hello, Peeta. Long time no see! Now, let's take a look at what we're dealing with here." She always got straight to business, a quality in Dr. Jackson that I really enjoyed. I reach down and detach the prosthesis and strip the lining around my stump. She rolls a stool over to sit in front of me and grabs my leg to study it closely.

"Sixteen years and it still looks fantastic," she says, readjusting her glasses with a gloved hand. "I did a great job, didn't I? My best transtibial amputation to date." Dr. Jackson winks at me and I smile. She preformed the amputation herself so long ago, and I've had my regular checkups with her since then. She inspects the amputation site, poking and rubbing in all the places that hurt. I sat on the cold examining table, lifting and turning my leg when commanded. Finally, she nods and looks up.

"It looks like it is just some nerve pain. It happens with a lot of amputees over time. Nothing to really worry about yet, Peeta. We will treat it with some morphling and hopefully it'll go away soon. I'll write a prescription for the pain killers and send it over to the pharmacy and you can pick it up later." Dr. Jackson turns and pulls a package of lining out of a drawer and hands them to me. "Here are some liners; hopefully it'll add some more comfort and ease the pain between strides."

"Thanks, Doc," I say, slowly wrapping the new liner around my nub carefully. I place it in the socket of the prosthesis and carefully latch on the bindings. Dr. Jackson looks on, nodding with approval. I bend my knee and watch as the prosthesis follows with resentment. I can barely remember what life was like before thirty percent of my leg was removed. How many football and rugby games have I spent cheering on my older brothers as I sat in the stands, unable to participate? How often was I stared at by the people around town, pointed and laughed at by the other kids at Sunday school or in the church services my mother dragged us to our whole lives? I shake my head, trying to rid these negative thoughts. Now, at the age of twenty-five, and with the help of different prosthetic limbs I can run and walk better and have more of a life than I did when I was younger. There is no need for bitterness, what's done is done, and there is no one to blame but _her. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Peeta_, I think to myself bitterly.

"How are you, Peeta? I haven't seen you in so long," Dr. Jackson says, bringing me back to the present. "How's the bakery?"

"I'm doing pretty well, thank you for asking. The bakery is picking up a lot of business now that Reese and I have changed some recipes around. Who knew so many people were allergic to gluten?" I say, managing to get a chuckle out of the older woman. Dr. Jackson tucks her hands into the pockets of her medical coat.

"That's good to know. I was surprised to hear that Mara passed it along to you boys. She managed that shop with an iron fist," she smiles. _Oh, more than you know._ "How is your mother doing, by the way? I hear she's over at Cedar Hills?" she asks, leaning against the door. I shuffle in my seat awkwardly. Discussing my mother wasn't my favorite topic in the world, especially these days, after what happened to Mason and my father. It's difficult to talk up Mara, like she was the best mother in the world.

"Yes, she's doing fine there. Her arthritis has been getting worse, especially in her hands so she's getting the help she needs. She took Mason and my father's death pretty hard… We all did…"

The news of my eldest brother's death two years ago shocked us all. The day my father opened the door to find two men in uniform carrying a flag, Bannock understood what had happened. It had hit him hardest- Mason and our father were best friends. I was away at the culinary school two hours out of Blue Mountain when I got the call, and I rushed home, not believing a word he said. Reese, on the other hand, grabbed his keys and drove off into the mountains for a few days, needing to be alone. We understood, at least, my father and I did. Mara did not come out of her bedroom. It wasn't until that evening when she finally walked out with her nose in the air and eyes red, mouth in a hard line and headed to her study to make phone calls. We gathered in the church a week later for Mason's funeral. My mother and father then threw themselves into working harder at the bakery. My father especially, which must have been the cause of the heart attack he died from last summer. The day I watched his casket get lowered into the ground was one of the worst days of my life. The bakery was his heart and soul. I could not imagine walking into the shop without him waving me over to help him make the raisin bread he loved so much. He protected my brothers and I from our mother whenever he could. I felt helpless, like a small child afraid that Mara would come after me again.

By then my mother's hands were getting worse and worse. Finally, after Reese and I's graduation, she handed over the bakery to us. "Peeta," Mara had said, signing the paperwork at the lawyer's office with a shaking hand. "By the Grace of God, don't you dare ruin this like you ruined everything else." The way she looked at me was filled with rage and loathing. I grabbed the forms and walked out of the office. Reese was the only one to convince her to move into the assisted living facility outside of town, since we were too busy with the demands from the bakery and, quite honestly, had no desire to help her any more.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta. I was devastated when I heard about Mason, and then your father, oh, that was tough. Bannock was so kind. He had raised three fine young men." Dr. Jackson shook her head sadly. She opened the door and looked back up at me, and gave me a small smile. "I'll get your prescription ready, Peeta. Do tell Reese I said hello." I nod and she disappeared to leave me to change. I grab my jeans and carefully pull it over the prosthesis, and then my other leg. I hop off the examining table and bend over, slipping my prosthetic foot into my shoe first. Folding the paper robe neatly, I exit the room and make my way to the front door.

It's five o'clock when I finally arrive back at the bakery. I pull into the alley and park next to Rue's bright red Volkswagen Beetle behind the old brick building. The fast paced music filling my car vibrated the seats and steering wheel as I remained seated, tapping along and enjoying the song. I glance over at the small paper sack sitting in the passenger seat and snatch it, tearing it open. Inside was a brightly colored orange bottle filled with tiny, circular morphling pills. I pop the bottle open and take one as directed, dry swallowing the bitter tasting pill. Sighing, I turn off my iPod and engine and open the car door. I pull out my prosthesis slowly, the pain getting worse as the day went on. I slide out, careful not to hit Rue's 'precious baby' with my door. _Why'd you park so close, idiot? _I thought grumpily. The closer it got to Reese's date with Katniss, the more agitated and nervous I got. _As if it's _your _date. Quit acting as if it is._ The thought of seeing her again sent a shiver down my spine. I make my way around the car and pop open the trunk. Grabbing the groceries in both hands, I let it shut itself and trudge up the back stairs leading into the kitchen. I kick the door with my good foot, hoping Reese or Rue were back there and could hear me struggling to open the door. Rue's face appears through the screen door and props it open.

"Thanks," I say gratefully as I pass her. I place the bags on one of the tables and begin to take out each item one by one. Rue places her hand on mine, stopping me. I look up and see her smile warmly.

"Let me help you, Peeta," she says, grabbing the produce and setting them in a bowl to rinse. "You've had a long day. Reese told me your leg was acting up again."

"Hey, thank you, Rue," I say gladly, reaching under the table to find a cutting board. I glance over at the petite 20 year old standing near the sink, gently rinsing the asparagus in her tiny hands. Her purple employee t-shirt looked well against her pretty hazelnut complexion, I notice.

"You look good in purple," I comment, rubbing my special dill and lemon pepper seasoning into the chicken. I slice thin slits along the top of the chicken and poke more of the seasoning mixture inside. Rue walks over and sets the bowl of freshly washed spinach, romaine lettuce and asparagus next to the cutting board. She bumps her small hips against mine and grins.

"Thank you, Peeta. You are ever so much the gentleman," she says and swats my forearm playfully. Rue's kind and graceful demeanor brought tranquility to the bakery, something Reese and I definitely needed at times when we were butting heads or being too rowdy. She was the little sister we never had, having known her from the religious home schooling community we group up in when we were younger. Hiring her was one of the best decisions we've made since running the business ourselves.

"Where's Reese?" I have not heard my brother's booming voice since I walked in. Rue rolled her golden eyes. "He dipped out early. I comment on how slow it had gotten and he disappeared. He must be getting ready for his date," she says, walking towards the front of the store. I drop the chicken on the counter with a loud slap. Rue raises an eyebrow. I shake my head dismissively and turned to start the kitchen grill as she went disappeared to help a customer.

"I'll help you close once I finish back here," I call out. _What a dick move, Reese, _I think to myself, placing a hand over the grill to check its warmth. It was such a typical thing of him to do. "Quit thinking with your dick and think with your brain," I mutter angrily, gently placing the four chicken breasts on the grill. Reese left me to finish decorating that birthday order- _eighty fucking cupcakes -_ plus prep the kitchen for tomorrow's breads. _I'm going to be here all night, _I think annoyingly. Glancing down at my leg, I silently thank Dr. Jackson for the morphling.

I walk towards the fridge to grab a carton of strawberries and the ingredients for raspberry cream tartlets as I hear the comforting sound of the chicken sizzling on the electric grill. I reach into my back pocket for my iPod and place it inside the dock Rue gave me for my birthday last year. I pick a random radio station and let the music fill the room as I work. Background noise always helps me cool down after a Reese-induced annoyance and adds to the comfort cooking can bring me. After flipping the chicken breasts over, I begin to chop at the lettuce and the stems off the spinach leaves. I toss them in a large bowl before quickly mincing the large walnuts to add on top as a garnish. I munch on strawberries as I work, careful not to eat them all and mix the sliced ones in with the greens. _Course one, check_. I place the bowl in the fridge to chill and go back and check on my chicken. Now golden brown on both sides, I turn them over to create the perfect row of grill marks before plating them and setting them in a warmer. Next, I quickly prepare the wild rice as the asparagus steams on the corner of the stove. The poppy seed dressing still needs to be made. I rush around the kitchen, pulling spices and oils and other ingredients from the cupboards in the small area I dedicated for my non-bread related adventures in cooking. Whisking the ingredients in a bowl, my mind wanders again to Katniss- how sexy she would look helping me bake countless treats of her choosing, wiping flour off her cute nose and tasting the sweet flavors of her mouth. Time is inching closer until she arrives with Reese, and I grow restless as the minutes pass by. Will he tell her that I was the one who cooked for her? Knowing him, there was a fifty-fifty chance of that actually happening. You never know with Reese.

Plating the chicken over the wild rice carefully, I slide a few spears of asparagus onto the plates, wiping drops of juice from the chicken off the edge of the plate, giving it a clean cut look. I place those in the warmer and begin preparing the dessert. I hear Rue walk into the kitchen from behind as I stir in cream and sugar.

"Reese sent me a text and said they are on their way and asked if I could move a table and a couple chairs to the middle of the store," she scoffs, texting back a reply. "He said, 'make it look fancy'." I roll my eyes and turn to her, bringing the bowl with me as I peek into the front of the bakery. The customers have all gone home, the stores sign has been switched from 'open' to 'close' and the floors have been mopped and a majority of the breads put away. I give her a look.

"I told you I'd help you clean up," I say, feeling guilty for not keeping track of time and a little pissed off at Reese. She shrugs and flings the rag she's holding in the laundry bin by the backdoor. "It's okay, Peet. You're busy back here slaving away for Reese, it's only fair. You owe me one," Rue winks.

"Actually…" I go to the warmer and pull out two plates of the main course I had set out for Rue and I. She grins and claps her hands together eagerly. "I don't!" I smile, placing the plate on the table in the middle of the kitchen in front of her.

"Oh my goodness," she says, bending slightly to inhale the dill and lemon pepper aromas escaping from the chicken. She looks at the door to the front and back to the plate and groans. "I want nothing more than to tear into this right now but I better do as King Reese demands." With a sigh, she exits the kitchen and I return to my duty station, now kneading left over pie dough to make the base of the tartlets. _She's almost here,_ I think to myself absentmindedly. I shiver nervously. I finally get to see her closer than when I saw her across the busy farmers market. I get to see her in _my_ bakery, eating _my_ food_. Yeah, but with your brother._ I wave that thought away and pour the cream mixture into the dough covered ramekin and set them in the fridge. Nevertheless, I get to see her again, and that's enough to keep the negative thoughts away.

Rue comes back into the kitchen and we sit together to eat. We munch on the chicken silently, waiting for Reese to barge in at any moment. The minutes tick by painfully slow. I keep my eyes fixated on the kitchen door and my ears focused on the tiny bell of the front door of the bakery, signaling their arrival. Finally, after it seems like days, I hear the soft chiming of the bell and rise from my stool. I wipe my mouth with the small kitchen towel hanging over my shoulder and head out of the kitchen, careful not to walk too fast in fear that Rue would think I was up to something. _I just have to see- Oh…_

Katniss Everdeen stood in the doorway, shyly tucking a strand of her wavy, raven colored hair behind her ear as she listens to Reese point out different items in the bakery. I stop behind the counter and suddenly feel rooted to the wooden floor, totally and utterly fixated on the girl in front of me. Her hair was wrapped around her head in an intricate crown of braids and a long, thin gold chain hung around her neck, settling between her small, perky breasts. She wore a loose, forest green blouse over black tights and dark brown riding boots. She hugged an old, brown leather jacket close to her as she nodded along to whatever my brother was saying. I wouldn't know, because everything became silent as soon as her grey eyes found mine. I suck in a quick breath as a shiver ran up my spine.

"Oh, Katniss! This is my brother, Peeta!" I hear Reese say distantly as they cross the room. I feel myself reach out to shake her hand, our eyes never breaking contact. I feel a shock run through me as soon as I feel her small hand in mine, her grip surprisingly firm.

"Hello, Peeta."

Two words out of her mouth, and I'm hooked.

_Fuck._

_Thank you all for waiting so patiently! I'll try to update as soon as I can. Also, if you wanted to know, the song Peeta was jamming out to in his car was 'Notice Me' by Balance and Composure, haha, since that was the song I was listening to when I was writing that scene. If you guys have any questions or would like to review, you can hit me up on here or on my tumblr ( ). Thanks again!_


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry for updating so late! The school year is coming to a close but I managed to finish this chapter up during my last bio lecture, haha. I'll be updating again soon, I promise! After next week I'll be trying to update as frequently as I can. Thanks for all of you who have waited so patiently! I hope this chapter is worth it. A big thank you to my best friend Krystle for her good vibes and great review of this chapter! I'm also in need of a beta reader. If anyone knows someone, send them my way! Message me on here or on my tumblr (kasskaban). Thanks for reading!

I do not own The Hunger Games.

Chapter Jams: "Blood Bank" by Bon Iver.

KE

"Hello, Katniss," Peeta Mellark had said, my hand disappearing in his larger one. They were scarred from multiple burns of the ovens and calloused from work. His bright blue eyes searched my own in wonder, while I eyed his carefully. His body had stiffened with our touch- why, I didn't know. But I wanted to, because I felt my heart begin to beat frantically. Why was I so nervous? Why had he affected me in that way? Reese made me anxious but Peeta… this was the weird butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of nervous. A nervousness I haven't felt since I pined over the whole men's swim team or how in love I was with my beautiful Shakespearean literature professor in college. I never even felt that way with Gale Hawthorne, my childhood best friend and the only boyfriend I have ever had.

Peeta's hand finally dropped mine and we continued to stare at each other until I felt Reese lead me to a table in the middle of the bakery, his hand on my lower back- a little too low, if you ask me. Peeta's eyes narrowed and excused himself to the kitchen in the back of the building.

The date with Reese went okay- well, it wasn't a _disaster_, per se. He was nice, courteous and funny, for the most part. We talked about the sports we played growing up- I learned that he played rugby so I told him about the competitions I attended. He seemed pretty impressed, which annoyed me a little. Peeta would only come out to serve us the three courses he had prepared for us, or to clear the table. Our hands would brush occasionally as he passed our plates, his eyes finding mine and I would quickly look away. The food, oh, the food! Not only were the dishes plated beautifully, they tasted phenomenal. I did my best to stifle the tiny squeaks of pleasure but I'm sure he could hear me as soon as he walked away. I was so embarrassed. I would occasionally sneak tiny glances at the kitchen door when Reese wasn't staring at me. I felt guilty for neglecting the sole reason as to why I was here. He didn't seem to notice as he asked me more questions about my likes and interests- typical date conversation. Reese and I had very little in common and the conversation was full of awkward silences and picking at our food.

"Peeta!" Reese had said, clapping a large hand on his brother's shoulder at the end of the evening. Reese rubbed his protruding belly and made an okay sign with his free hand. "Fantastic dinner, baby brother. You have outdone yourself." He ruffled Peeta's wavy blonde hair. Peeta smoothed the strays out of his face and grabbed the dishes I was trying to clear away.

"Thank you, but I got this," he said, taking the dishes from my hands. I blush again and reach for my braid before I realized I had it wrapped around my head. I dropped my hands quickly, fidgeting slightly. Fiddling with my braid was a comfort. Why had I let Johanna convince me to wear my hair up when she knew I was going to be nervous and awkward?

"The food was amazing, by the way. Thank you," I said sincerely. His face broke into a blinding grin. A flutter deep in my chest startled me as I drank it in. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth pulled up higher at one side, giving him an adorable lopsided grin. _I bet that drives the girls wild_, I thought. My eyes grazed over his full lips, down to his jaw line and further down to his broad shoulders, the muscles bulging slightly underneath the short sleeves of his dark grey shirt. Peeta had a stocky, strong build like his brother. He had to be shorter than Reese by only a mere couple of inches. I licked my lips involuntarily and busied my hands with the hem of my blouse.

"It was my pleasure," he murmured, his voice pulling my eyes back to his. They bore into mine searchingly, suddenly darker before disappearing into the kitchen. Reese, sensing the date to be over (to my relief), drove me home and distracted me from my usual car induced anxiety with small talk. He parked in my dimly lit driveway and leaned towards me, waiting for me to reciprocate the action. I closed the distance only a few inches and shut my eyes as soon as his lips crashed into mine. I pulled away quickly and thanked him for a nice time before I hurriedly climbed out of his large truck. I was careful enough to not slam the door and rushed up the porch steps before I turned around and waved at him as he drove away, his face unreadable in the dark.

I lay here now twelve hours later in my bed replaying last night over and over again. No one's ever made me as nervous as Peeta Mellark had. I run my hands through my hair, now a mess from the multiple braids I donned last night. I wonder what his hands would feel like curling and entangling themselves in the waves. I blush self consciously and nestle deeper into my bed, relishing in the warmth it brings. Johanna and I finally found and hired three trainers for the gym, which means a whole Saturday off for me.

My mind wanders back to the thought of Peeta's hands in my hair, convincing myself to give into these thoughts just once. _What's the harm? He's gorgeous, you're alone, just let it go. What are the odds you'll ever see him again? _ I close my eyes and imagine my hands are his as I trail them down lightly from my hair and down to the sensitive areas around my neck. The tingling sensations from my touch raise goose-bumps along my skin and travels down between my legs. _Fuck, what am I doing?_ I think feebly, moving my hands down to trace feather soft circles around my breasts through the thin material of my sleeping shirt. Thinking of the way his calloused hands would feel on my hot skin made every nerve in my body awaken. I take a now perky nipple in between my thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently. A soft hiss escapes my lips and I gasp, clapping my hands over my mouth.

"Shit." I sigh and mentally shake it off. _I'm alone. I'm alone! Quit being paranoid._

Placing a hand back on my breast, I use the other to repeat the soft circular motions down my sides and onto my stomach. I massage one breast and move onto the other, focusing on the feeling it brings and not the action itself. I imagine Peeta's mouth trailing kisses down my neck to between the valley of my breasts, pausing only to take a nipple into his mouth. I whimper at the thought as I slip a hand into my panties and find myself slick with want. I find the bundle of nerves and begin to stroke slowly. My imaginary Peeta makes his way down my breasts, to my stomach and in between my legs, nuzzling the mound of sensitive flesh with his nose and begins with broad licks with his tongue. I begin to stroke faster, my breathing frantic and moans now uncensored. My body feels like its on fire as I imagine him suckling on my clit. I can feel myself reaching closer and closer to my climax. The only thing I see in my mind when I come is Peeta's smirking face, dripping in my need.

"Christ," I gasp as I lay panting in a bundled heap on my bed. When was the last time I've touched myself? Was it weeks? More like months, it felt like. I feel the tension in my body unravel as I catch my breath. Johanna's right. I_ am_ too uptight. Maybe I should do this more often…

The shrill sound of my phone startles me back to the present. I flip over and crawl all over my bed, throwing pillows and blankets around as I search for my phone. The green phone case glistens in a little patch of sunlight on the floor and I lunge for it, fumbling to slide my finger across the screen to answer.

"Katniss? Katniss!" Primrose says, her voice sounding distant. _Oh shit._ In my foolish attempt to rid Peeta Mellark from my thoughts (and honestly, it only made it worse), I had forgotten my sister was visiting today. I crawl back onto my bed and place my head in my free hand in shame.

"Katniss? Are you there?" Prim says irritably. I can't really blame her. I'd be pretty pissed myself.

"Yeah, sorry, Prim. I, uh, kinda zoned out for a while, I'm sorry. Where are you?"

"I called you three times. What were you doing? You know what, don't tell me. I'm pretty close, give me about half an hour and I should be there. Please tell me you have food," Prim pleads. I groan. I was supposed to grab groceries this morning but decided try to and sleep in, which failed. I rise from my bed and make my way into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

"Uh, no, sorry, Prim," I grimace, holding my hand out to the water to feel the temperature. Prim sighs and I feel the guilt wash over me. _This is what happens when you fantasize about boys you can't have, Katniss_, I chastise myself. "Let me take you out to lunch. Then we can grab some groceries for dinner."

"Sure, but we have to eat dinner tonight at mom's," Prim calls out. That's right. I can't believe I forgot about that as well.

"That's fine. I'll see you in a bit," I say, and Prim hangs up. I sigh and run my hands through my knotted hair. For some bizarre reason I thought today was going to be stress free. Nevertheless, I get to see Prim and that's all that matters. Ever since she began the nursing program at a university a few hours away, her visits have been less and less. I miss her presence and the casual buffer she had become between Althea, our mother, and I. When our father died, she had become too depressed and withdrawn. She took months off from work to grieve, but she forgot about the only family she had left. I had to be there for Prim, even though I was the one with him when he died. I fought so hard to overcome the crippling despair I felt, and continue to feel, for Prim. It's been four years, and I still haven't forgiven her… forgiven myself…

I jump into the shower and attempt to scrub away the sadness.

"Hey, Little Duck."

I wait for Prim on the front porch, squinting out at her as she runs to the back of her car to get her things. The sun is shining for the first time in weeks and a warm humidity settles in the mountains. I tuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans as Prim slams the trunk of her car shut. She shrugs her duffel bag over her shoulder and trudges up the graveled driveway. The sunlight makes her long blonde hair shine bright and the freckles splashed across her cheeks stand out. Prim sets her bag down at our feet and launches herself into my outstretched arms.

"Hi, Katniss. I've missed you." I close my eyes and squeeze my sister tight. I still see her as the child I helped raise instead of the twenty year old before me. I glance down and notice the back of her flannel shirt untucked. I chuckle and pat her behind lightly. Prim grins and tucks it back into her jeans. I let go of her and grab her bag.

"Let's get some food, I'm starving," I say, heading back into the cabin. I managed to clean up a bit before Prim arrived. The living room was free of paperwork and the dishes have been put in the dishwasher. I make my way into my bedroom and place my sister's bag on the bed. Prim leans arms crossed against the doorway when I turn around. She eyes me carefully. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"How have you been, Katniss?" she asks. I groan inwardly and sit on the edge of the mattress. I pat the spot next to me, but Prim stays glued to her spot. I sigh. I never escape the drilling questions when she's around.

"I've been, you know. Busy."

"Busy."

"Yes, you know me. Business woman Katniss Everdeen, reporting for duty, Captain Prim," I say, imitating a salute. She narrows her eyes.

"Katniss, you're always busy. I know it's a good thing in a way, but I worry about you. You don't call as much anymore. I know the symptoms; I know what to look out for in PTSD-" I shake my head at her. Prim's nostrils flare, clearly frustrated with me.

"I don't have that, Prim. I'm fine."

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

I look away from her piercing glare and focus my attention at the dust particles swimming in the sunlight. Ever since the accident I've been plagued with nightmares that made sleeping a rare luxury. It has eased up some over the years, but they still turn up every now and then and sleep becomes impossible. I hardly sleep much anymore, maybe five hours at the most if I'm lucky. Lack of sleep isn't uncommon for me anymore; it's just something I've gotten used to in the past four years, that and a lot of other things that I won't worry Prim about. She worries enough over me as it is. When did our roles switch? I was the protector, not the protected. I give her a small smile.

"I slept pretty well last night. Please, Prim, let's go to lunch. My treat!" I jump to my feet and grab her hand, pulling her along down the stairs. "You drive, though."

Prim and I seat ourselves in a small table near the large window, waiting for our order number to be called out. Downtown Blue Mountain is alive with activity due to the beautiful day. I can see the farmer's market tent across the square, little children pulling their parents this way and that, locals chatting outside of restaurants and stores, and I can hear the birds sing from outside. I settle into my seat, sipping on my tea contentedly as I people watch. Sae's Bistro was a favorite haunt of ours, having come here frequently as teens. Prim begins to chat about school and her volunteer work at a free clinic, stirring her drink as she prattles along. I smile widely at her. I'm so proud of the young woman she's become and the road she is headed despite everything she's been through. Father's death, our mother's lack of guidance, and me, well… I wasn't around much either sometimes. Mentally, not physically. But I was better than our mother. I at least _tried_ to keep it together. I feel a strong urge to reach out and hold her hand but I don't want to explain what I'm feeling to her. The immense guilt and regret is too painful. I take a sip of tea to calm me down.

"Anyway, Clove and I ended things a couple of weeks ago and honestly I think it's a good thing. She was too bossy and controlling," Prim says, rolling her eyes. I look away from the window and focus back on the conversation.

"Wait, why didn't you tell me this?" I ask in surprise. My sister and her girlfriend Clove Henry have been off and on again for the last year and a half. Prim shrugged and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I just got tired of her shit, you know? I was doing all of the work in the relationship. I wasn't too hung up about it, so I didn't think it'd matter." I pat her hand lightly.

"She was a total bitch," I say comfortingly, and Prim barks out a laugh and nods.

"Yes, definitely. So! Any men in your life lately, Katniss? Were you too busy kicking him out of your bed before I got here?" she says, wiggling her eye brows at me. _If only_… I am about to answer when our number is called out. Prim takes a swig of her drink and hops up. "I'll grab that," she says and heads off to the counter. I sigh, thankful for the interruption. I grab an abandoned straw and tear the end off to use on Prim and smirk to myself. She sits back down and places my turkey BLT in front of me. Right as I bring the straw to my lips, ready to strike, she leans over and whispers, "So there is a hunky blonde man staring at you over by the counter." I give her a confused look and she points behind me. Turning, I see Peeta leaning against the counter talking to a very pretty dark skinned girl, though his bright blue eyes are looking right into mine. I quickly turn back around and feel my neck beginning to turn red.

Prim sits back into her chair and pops a chip into her mouth, smirking at me. "I'm psychic! Who is he? He's cute. Though not as cute as the girl he's talking to."

I look down at my sandwich and can feel both Prim and Peeta's stares drilling holes into the front and back of my head. She kicks me from underneath the table.

"They're coming over."

_Oh god._

I look down at my lap and fumble with the hem of my grey blouse. I can feel the heat creep from my neck and onto my face. Prim leans back into her seat, smiling politely at Peeta and his friend (_his very pretty friend_) as they make their way over to our table.

"Katniss?"

I can feel his powerful frame standing over me and my heart races. I swallow a few times to rid the frog in my throat and look up. I see those kind eyes of his crinkling at the corners. He holds a coffee in one hand and a bag of fruit in the other. I notice that instead of an apron, he's wearing dark blue jeans and a red t-shirt that hugs his upper body perfectly. His ashy blond hair falls over his forehead in small waves and I long to know what it feels like to run my hands through them. I glance at Prim who is raising her eyebrows at me. Peeta shuffles awkwardly after a minute or two of silence. For some reason, I can't seem to speak. My mouth has gone dry.

"Am… Am I bothering you? I'm sorry, I just had to make sure it was you before I came over here," he chuckles nervously. A wave of guilt washes over me.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry," I say, a little too quickly. I see Peeta deflate and I can't help but find him to be incredibly adorable. "I wasn't expecting you, is all." Prim coughs expectantly and smiles widely at Peeta and his friend. "Oh, yeah, this is my little sister Primrose."

"Prim," she corrects me and I roll my eyes. Peeta turns to the girl next to him.

"This is Rue. She is also, in a way, my little sister. Well, the little sister I never had," he says, nudging her gently. She laughs and adjusts the to-go carrier of coffee drinks to shake our hands. Prim bats her eyelashes at Rue and she smiles.

"I work at the bakery with Peeta and Reese. It's nice to finally meet you, Katniss. I've heard so much about-" Peeta coughs, cutting Rue off and blushes a bit. What did she mean? She probably heard about me from Reese. Peeta and I only met yesterday.

"You own a bakery?" Prim asks and leans on the table with her chin in her hand. She flashes Rue a flirty smile. Peeta nods.

"Yeah, my brother and I do. It's about two blocks from here. You all should stop by later. I'll give you a discount," he says and winks at us. My cheeks flush, which doesn't go unnoticed by Prim.

"Oh, we will," she says seriously. She looks over at me. "Won't we, Katniss?" Peeta glances down at me hopefully. My heart flutters in my chest. _Jesus Christ, Everdeen, pull it together. _

"Sure," I say nonchalantly as possible. His face breaks out in a blinding grin. I cannot handle anymore of his beauty. I can't help but smile back at him, it's contagious.

"Fantastic!" he exclaims, but quickly glances at his watch. "Oh man, we better get going. We left Reese all alone," he chuckles. He glances back down at me. "I'll see you later then?" he asks quietly. I'm momentarily captivated by the fullness of his lips. _They look so soft. _I force my eyes to meet his and nod. Peeta gives me that lopsided grin of his and turns back to Prim. "It was nice meeting you, Prim," he says to her and shakes her hand again.

"See y'all later!" Rue says as she waves goodbye and leads Peeta to the exit. We watch them exit the small restaurant and once they were out of sight, I exhale the breath I didn't really realize I was holding and begin to bite into my cold sandwich. I can feel Prim's eyes boring into my skull. I can practically sense the hundreds of questions she wants to ask, and before I know it, they tumble out of her mouth.

"How do you know him? What was that about? Who is she? Who is _he?_ Why were you two eye fucking each other the whole time?"

I practically choke on my sandwich. I glance up at Prim, whose arms are crossed and eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, what?" I manage to say between coughs. Eye fucking? I was _not_ eye fucking him.

"You heard me! He couldn't keep his eyes off of you! And when you weren't too busy being a complete idiot, you looked like you wanted to climb him like a tree."

"What!" I hiss. Prim rolls her eyes at me and turns her attention back to her food. "Don't be so crass, Prim. Johanna is rubbing off on you too much." She flips me off. "I do not want to climb him like a tree." I slump back into my seat and pick at crumbs. Of course I want to climb him like a tree. I want to do so many things to that gorgeous man. There's just something about those beautiful blue eyes and crooked smile- just his overall demeanor- that pulls me to him. It's magnetic. It's electrical. It's-

"Katniss."

I glance up from my food to find a smirking Prim across the table. I sigh. _Well, I gotta talk to someone about this eventually. Might as well be Prim. _

"Okay, okay. You got me. God you are so annoying." She beams and motions for me to continue. I give her one last pleading look but I'm met with a chip thrown at me. I'll never get out of this conversation. "I had a date last night."

Prim's eyes widen as big as saucers. "Really? With him?"

I shake my head. "No, with his brother Reese. He came by work last week and signed up. Next thing you know he's asking me out on a date and so I said yes."

Prim whistles in shock. I should be offended at my sister's lack of faith in me to date men, but I don't. I continue with my story.

"Anyway, he picks me up and shows me around the bakery. I meet Peeta, who cooked us an amazing dinner. Prim, I cannot even begin to describe how fantastic everything tasted. It's like it came straight out of a cook book." My turkey sandwich doesn't come close to anything of Peeta's that I've tasted. That man has a gift.

"Quit your babbling and get to the good stuff, Katniss," grumbled Prim.

"Okay, well, Reese and I don't have a lot in common. We're both pretty athletic and like funny movies and that's pretty much it. By the end of the night it got a little awkward. He took me home, kissed me good night, and that was it."

"Yeah yeah, so how does Peeta fit into all of this?" she asks. I shrug.

"I don't really know." I slump back into my chair glumly. How _does_ Peeta Mellark fit into all of this? "He's attractive and sweet. So is Reese, don't get me wrong, but there is something about him that just stuck with me." I don't know how else to describe the effect Peeta has on me. He just latched on to me and I can't seem to shake him off. I don't think I want to, either.

"You like him." Prim smiles slightly and sips her drink. "You like him, Katniss. I can tell."

"Oh I don't know about that…" I mumble, hoping Prim would just drop the subject already. My anxiety levels are through the roof.

"Oh hush, now. You like him! What's so wrong about liking someone? How long has it been since Gale? It's okay to need people sometimes, Katniss."

I can sense she's hinting at something else, but I wave that feeling away.

"Prim, I don't have _time_ to date people. I have a business to run. I have classes to teach. I have clients who need me."

"I'm not asking you to just drop all of your responsibilities. Peeta's cute, and he seems really into you. Besides, you don't have to date him. He can be like your fuck buddy."

I grimace. "No, I'd rather not do that. I'm not the kind of girl who does that kind of thing." Prim shrugs and munches on her food. The idea of Peeta Mellark being a "fuck buddy" isn't unappealing, but there is something about him that makes me feel like that wouldn't be an option.

"Well, you can never have too many friends. God knows you need more of those around, Katniss. Johanna and I will get tired of you eventually," Prim teases. I stick my tongue out at her and we fall into a fit of giggles.

Be friends with Peeta Mellark? Now that is something I can do.

"Prim, can't we buy bread elsewhere?" I plead as I follow Prim down the quiet street to Peeta's bakery. Prim hops over a puddle and shakes her head.

"No way, Katniss. We told Peeta and Rue we'd stop by. Now quit whining! It's just bread."

Who would've thought buying bread, of all things, would make me so anxious? We near the front door and Prim stops, waiting for me to catch up. I adjust the bag of groceries to my hip and nod. She gives me an encouraging grin and steps inside. We're greeted with a ringing of bells that hang from the door knob and a gust of warm scented air as we enter the old brick building. I smell cinnamon and dill and my mouth becomes dangerously close to watering. A couple of patrons sit in wrought iron chairs as they read their newspaper and nibble on pastries and a small line of customers stand in front of the register. I see Reese and Rue up front with the customers. Reese glances up at the noise and a look of surprise etches his face. I give a small wave and smile.

"He's cute," Prim whispers as she studies him and the rest of the bakery. I shrug.

"He is," I say, walking to one of the cases of French bread. I do my best to avoid the front counter. I was hoping Reese wouldn't be up front when we arrived but I was wrong. I can hear the floorboards behind me creek with weight.

"Prim, what should we get? I don't know anything about bread and I didn't ask mom what she wanted."

"Well, if you're making anything with pasta, you can never go wrong with a good baguette, but I _did_ make some garlic bread about an hour ago," mutters a low voice close to my ear. I jump and turn around and am met with a chuckling Peeta. I shoot him a glare and he holds up his hands in defense.

"Sorry about that, I couldn't resist," he says with a grin. I relax my shoulders and smile nervously.

"It's okay. I just thought you were Prim."

He points over to the counter and I spy Prim leaning against it and in deep conversation with Rue. I roll my eyes. Prim has a bad habit with flirting with any pretty girl that walks into the room.

"It looks like my sister likes your sister," I say, adjusting the bag of groceries in my arms.

"I would've never have thought," Peeta says in mock surprise. I raise an eyebrow. He continues, "Oh, my gay-dar is pretty spectacular. Don't worry, Rue's into her as well." He eyes the bag in my hands. "Would you like to set those down? I can take them back into the kitchen while you look around if you want."

I shake my head. _He's so nice and considerate. _I noticed that he changed out of his red shirt and back into the grey Mellark Family Bakery t-shirt I first met him in. Flour is all over the front of his apron and on his arms. There are even some bits of it stuck in his hair.

"Thanks, but we don't plan to be here for long. Prim wanted to stop by and we needed bread anyway," I say, my eyes moving back to his and down to his full mouth. I can only visualize what they'd feel like trailing kisses down my neck and stomach, like the way I imagined him doing this morning. _This morning._ I blush and look down immediately. I can't be thinking that way around him. I glance back up to his face and notice him smiling at me.

"So, how can I help you, Katniss? Like I said, I did make some garlic bread this morning, and some cheesy buns just came out of the oven," he says, leading me down the length of the store and pointing at clear case filled to the top with seasoned bread. Loaves of bread baked with what looks like rosemary and parmesan catch my eye. He turns back to me and I crash into his chest.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," I mumble hurriedly and suddenly, I freeze. Peeta Mellark's arms were wrapped around me, keeping me from tumbling to the ground. He smiles down at me and quickly lets go.

"No, don't be. I'm the one who should be sorry," he says as he runs a hand through his hair. He laughs. "I'm messing this up, aren't I?" he asks. Judging by the confused look on my face, he shakes his head. "Sorry, forget I said anything. I'll throw in a free treat for you since it was my fault you almost broke your neck."

"Oh no, it's okay, really! I shouldn't have been distracted," I say, motioning towards the glass case. Peeta grabs tongs from his apron pocket and opens the case door. He glances back at me and I nod when he reaches the rosemary bread.

"Ah, good choice! This one is one of my favorites. Only a couple of hours old," Peeta says and quickly wraps the loaf in parchment paper. I take the bread.

"Thank you, Peeta," I say, inhaling the wonderful aroma.

"Any time, Katniss. Honestly, I didn't expect you would show up today," he admits, moving back to the case to grab a loaf of garlic bread.

I'm taken aback and a little annoyed that he would assume that but he is right. I didn't want to come around, but I'm glad I did. I feel a little guilty that he would feel that way. Did I really give off that vibe?

"Well, I try to stick true to my word," I say as we make our way back to the front counter. Prim and Rue were still in deep conversation and Reese is nowhere to be found. Peeta walks around to stand behind the register.

"That's a good quality to have," he says. Peeta pulls a paper bag from somewhere underneath and places the loaves inside. "Oh, before I forget, I'll be right back," he winks and disappears to the back room. He appears again with two large boxes and sets them in front of me.

"Some cheesy buns and," he opens the top box and my mouth waters at the sight of the muffins inside. "Fresh cranberry almond muffins, straight from the cooling rack."

Peeta grins as I pull one gently out of the box- they're irresistible- and sink my teeth into the warm bread. My eyes close and I hum my content as I chew. I give him a thumbs up as I finish off the muffin.

"That was amazing. All these carbs will be the death of me, Peeta Mellark," I say as I dig around my purse to find my wallet.

"Don't worry about it. It's on the house," he says. I shake my head.

"Oh no, these are definitely worth paying for." I hold my bank card out to him but he places his hands in his apron pockets.

"It's a gift! Repayment for almost knocking you down and for gracing us with your presence," he says sincerely. I know that no matter what I say he won't relent. I sigh.

"Fine," I huff and close my wallet when suddenly an idea comes to mind.

"Since you won't take my money, how about a couple of free classes or training sessions at my gym?"

Peeta's eyes widen.

"Those are pretty pricey. I don't think-"

"Think of it as two businesses helping each other out," I say. It's honestly the least I could do for his generosity. _It's good for business_, I convince myself as I go back into my purse and dig around for a business card. I find one and slide it towards him.

"Take my card. It's has my info, our hours, and our website where you can read up on our classes and what our sessions offer," I explain. I smile at him as he places it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I just might take you up on that, Katniss," he says as he pushes the bags of goodies my way. I turn to Prim, who's watching me with a smug look on her face. I roll my eyes and hand her the bag of groceries so I can handle the new load. Rue gives me a wave before she disappears into the kitchen. I turn back to Peeta, whose smile is unwavering.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Peeta," I say, adjusting the bag in my arms.

"I'm looking forward to doing business with you again," he chuckles. "Thanks for coming by," he says quietly. I give him a small smile.

"No problem." I glance behind Peeta to the door leading to the kitchen. "Would you mind telling Reese I said hi?" I say awkwardly. I don't fail to notice the sudden shift in mood. Peeta nods curtly.

"Yeah, sure. He's out back in the kitchen working on an order. I'll let him know," he mutters, wiping at some mess I can't see.

"Okay… well, I'll see you soon, then?"

I'm surprised at my courage, but I really would like to see Peeta again. I did convince myself that I would try to be friends with him, after all. The way Peeta perks up again makes my heart flutter.

"Yes, definitely."

I turn and make my way to the front door. I can feel his eyes following me and I turn to wave goodbye before exiting the bakery.

"I knew you liked him," Prim says after a while as we walk to her car. We place the groceries and bread in the trunk and buckle ourselves in. I turn to her and say, with a shrug, "Like you said- it doesn't hurt to try and make more friends."

I wouldn't want to risk a relationship with anyone right now, especially with someone like Peeta. Business at the gym is booming and I'm too- how did Johanna put it? - '_fucked up_' to bring anyone romantic into my crazy life. It's obvious that the feelings I have for the boy with the bread won't die. I might as well smother them with friendship.


End file.
